Wishbone
by foreverwriting9
Summary: There are two sides to every coin, and two ways a meeting in Lisbon's office could go.


_This is where the evening splits in half, Henry, love or death. Grab an end, pull hard, and make a wish._

**Richard Siken, 'Wishbone'**

There are two scenarios.

1.

The door to Lisbon's office is locked.

It takes Jane six and a half seconds to pick the lock and swing the door open.

Lisbon glances up from the stack of papers that sprawls across her desk, and doesn't look the least bit surprised to see Jane standing in front of her.

"Morning Jane," she says absentmindedly, and then goes back to reading.

"I picked the lock on your door," he says, and it almost comes out sounding like a question. Jane frowns, confused. He expected a different reaction. (He _wants _a different reaction.)

"So you did." Lisbon doesn't even bother looking up from the form she's signing.

Jane watches her for a moment, thinking. "Your door was locked, and I used skills of questionable legality to open it and invade your privacy," he says finally, rephrasing it to try and provoke her.

"I can see that, Jane." She's becoming a little irritated, and while that's not exactly the reaction he wanted, it kind of works.

"You're not mad?"

Lisbon sighs, drops her pen, and looks up at him. "Jane, the fact that you are going to break into my office has become something of a foregone conclusion. I keep locking my door simply to give you something to do."

"Seriously?" He grins at her. "Why, Agent Lisbon, you are very sly."

She pretends not to hear him. "Now if you want to talk about being mad, let's just discuss some of these complaints that are sitting here." Lisbon's arm sweeps over the length of her desk, and Jane winces slightly.

"Uh, I'd rather not-"

"'Mr. Jane was incredibly rude to our entire family'," Lisbon starts, "'and at one point he even suggested that there was probably some in-breeding amongst our ancestors'." She puts down the paper and gives him a look. "Really, Jane?"

He shrugs. "It was true-"

"'Patrick Jane is nothing but a pet-snatching low-life, and after the stress he has inflicted upon my dog I intend to prosecute him to the fullest extent of the law'." Lisbon looks at Jane over the paper. "What'd you do to the dog?"

"I hid it."

"You did _what_?"

"Oh come now, Lisbon, I didn't _mistreat_it. I simply took it away from its overbearing owner. I was trying to see if I could trigger some sort of emotional confession or something."

"Right." Lisbon rolls her eyes and picks up the next paper. "'The CBI consultant otherwise known as Patrick Jane should-"

"I love you, Lisbon." It falls out of his mouth without a thought, because for some reason, sitting in the filtered sunlight of her office, listening to her read complaint after complaint...He's never loved her more.

She stares at him. "Jane?" It sounds strangled and confused.

He leans over her desk and pulls her forward just enough so he can kiss her, so she can taste the truth of his statement on his tongue.

Her cheeks are bright pink when they break apart.

Jane sits down, a smile tugging at his lips. "Now," he says, trying to look serious, but utterly failing, "how long have you loved me?"

2.

The door to Lisbon's office isn't locked, so Jane just walks right in and sits down on her coach.

"Hi, Lisbon."

She scowls at him. "You can't knock?"

"Nope," he says breezily.

Lisbon's in the middle of an eye roll when her phone rings. "Hello?" She purses her lips as she listens to the person on the other end. "All right. Yeah, we'll be there soon."

As she hangs up the phone, Jane stands. "Well, we better get going, Lisbon. The Sac PD is not known for its patience."

"Who says I was going to take you with me?" she asks, ignoring the fact that he guessed (correctly) who the caller was. Jane smiles and places his hand at the small of her back, pushing her gently toward the door.

"Don't be silly; who else would you want to take?"

His fingers are warm, and Lisbon tries to ignore that as she rolls her eyes. "Oh, I don't know, maybe someone with a _gun_."

"Meh," he waves a hand dismissively. "You and your guns."

Jane's fingers don't leave her back until they're both in the elevator, and even then, he stands close to her, their shoulders barely pressed together. (Lisbon almost finds it suffocating.)

"You make a certain face when you talk to Lieutenant Barton."

Jane's voice is so close it makes her jump.

"That's who it was, right? Whenever you talk to him you purse your lips, just a little bit. Probably because he annoys you..." he trails off for a moment when he sees the look on her face, and then says, "He asked you out."

Lisbon frowns. "No."

"You're a horrible liar, Lisbon." The elevator lurches to a stop, and as the doors slide open, Lisbon practically bolts out onto the main floor.

Jane follows behind her, a smile on his face.

As always.

()()()()()()()()()

They're riding in the car when he brings it up again.

"So, how'd he ask you? Was it romantic, or was it kind of childish? He seems like the childish type. I bet he's never had the courage to ask someone out before. You, Lisbon, you're the lucky lady-"

Lisbon brings the car to an abrupt stop, jerking Jane forward in his seat. "Why are you so interested in this, Jane?"

He studies her face carefully, watching her pupils dilate _just so_. "We're a family," he says softly, like it's that uncomplicated.

"Jane-"

That's when the shots ring out.

"Shit." Jane hears Lisbon swear softly over the crack of glass shattering. "_Get down_." She grabs the collar of his shirt just as he unbuckles his seatbelt, and pulls him down, hard.

"They're shooting from over there," Jane says, pointing toward the driver side window and leaning over to shout the words in Lisbon's ear. Her fingers are still wrapped around his collar, and she tugs him toward her slightly, looking him dead in the eyes.

"Stay down, Jane, all right?"

He nods, chin bumping against her fingers.

Lisbon lets go of him, and edges toward her door, slowly moving up to peer out the window. Several shots fire just as she drops back down to the floor, and they whiz through the broken glass of her window where her head had been moments before.

"Lisbon-" It's a whisper that she doesn't hear.

"There are three of them that I can see, but I don't have a clear shot."

Jane shuts his eyes, imagining the layout of the road. "Lisbon," he says finally, his voice tight and scratchy in his throat, "do you trust me?"

She turns and looks at him through the sudden shower of glass as bullets hit the windshield. "Yes." (It's that simple.)

He smiles at her. "I'm going to lure them out, and you're going to take them down."

She frowns. "No, Jane. That's too dangerous."

"It's not," he insists, like a petulant child, and then he swings the passenger side door open.

"Jane, don't you _dare_-"

The noise outside cuts off the rest of Lisbon's sentence, and Jane slams the door shut. In what he hopes is a fairly obvious way, he begins crawling toward a nearby abandoned truck to use as cover. One of the goons says something that sounds like _the pig is over there_, and then suddenly there are bullets flying much too close to Jane's head.

Jane glances over to Lisbon's car in enough time to see her slide out of the partially open door, crouch down, and move toward the thugs.

What he doesn't see is the shot that hits her in the chest.

There's a sickening thud, a strangled yell that sounds almost like his name, and then the squeal of tires as the men with guns drive away.

"Lisbon?" Jane stands up and runs.

She's lying on the pavement, and there's red all around her.

"Lisbon?" He falls down onto the ground next to her, and takes one of her hands in his. The road bites into his knees and the sun is so bright and hot overhead that Jane has to close his eyes.

"Jane?" She's struggling to sit up, and Jane tries to ignore the blood that seems to be _everywhere_.

"Lie down, Lisbon," he says softly. "Lie down. Back up will be here soon, and then you'll be ok. All right?"

She stares up at him and frowns. "Jane, I can't feel my legs."

"You'll be ok, Lisbon. You'll be ok." He can't think of anything else to say, so he slides her halfway onto his lap and whispers those words over and over into her ear. (He thinks it might help. Maybe.)

He sits there, in the middle of a blood spattered road, holding onto Lisbon until a cloud passes over the sun and their backup finally arrives.

3.

Jane's asleep on his couch when Lisbon finally finds him.

"Jane," she says, and nudges his shoulder.

He opens his eyes slowly, blinking in the hazy light that filters through the windows. "Ah, Lisbon. Hi," he says with a sleepy smile.

She squints down at him like he's the sun, like he blinds her. "Will you come into my office, Jane?"

"Of course," he says, pushing himself off the cushions of his couch and moving to stand next to her. He stretches for moment, and then nods. "Lead the way, Lisbon."


End file.
